


Blown Over

by silver_etoile



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: Future Fic, Hockey, M/M, NHL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hockey injury, Adam is forced to return to Minnesota for recovery, the last place he wants to be. If moving back home isn't bad enough, he hasn't kept in touch with many of his former friends, and Charlie least of all. Through recovery, he'll have to figure out his next move and how Charlie fits into all of that. Can they be friends like they used to and can Adam keep his feelings at bay to let that happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blown Over

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place circa '08, which ironically is the first and only time I ever went to Minnesota.

After so many years, Adam never actually imagined that he would be back in Minneapolis. It wasn’t the same as coming back to visit family. This time, it was for good, or at least until his physical therapy started to make a difference.

At barely twenty-six, Adam didn’t know how things could seem so unsure. Five years ago, when he’d been drafted into the NHL, things had seemed crystal clear. He’d be like Gretsky, still going strong after twenty years. His career path had been laid out since he was a kid, and seeing it go up in flames after a particularly brutal injury had not been in the plan.

It had only been a month since the defenseman on the opposite team had crunched him into the ice, dislocating his shoulder and breaking his leg in the process. The shoulder had healed mostly, but the leg would take much longer. After a month, he’d been cleared to use crutches instead of a wheelchair, which at least made him feel like things were looking up. Of course, it also made him hobble around like a cripple most of the time too.

The worst part of the whole thing wasn’t the possibility that he might not ever play hockey again but the fact that he was living with his parents again. It had really been his only option, especially when he had been in the wheelchair. While his mother seemed thrilled to have him home, his dad spent most of the time lamenting his career. It wasn’t something Adam really cared to do as it just reminded him of what he didn’t have.

In Minnesota, his teammates were too far away to be of any comfort, and eight years after high school, he’d lost touch with most of his old friends. It had been more and more difficult after leaving for the University of North Dakota, but they had one of the best programs in the country. He couldn’t have said no.

“Adam, honey,” his mom called from upstairs, “do you have anything to throw in the wash?”

Perched at the counter, Adam sighed. It was like being sixteen all over again. Lately, since he’d gotten home, he hadn’t even left the house. It was hard enough to navigate in the snow normally, but in a wheelchair, it just wasn’t worth the hassle. Now that he was on crutches, though, maybe he could get out, just for a few hours. Anything so he wouldn’t have to spend any more time watching Soaps with his mom.

Pulling out his cell phone, Adam scrolled through the contacts. There had to be someone he could call. Someone who was still around. He knew who he wanted to call, but he hadn’t had Charlie’s number in years, and he doubted he still lived at home.

He stopped scrolling on Guy’s name. They hadn’t talked in a while, not since his and Connie’s wedding actually, and that had been two years ago. Adam was beginning to realize how much he’d lost touch since going pro.

He hit send and listened to the annoying ringback tone--Michael Jackson’s Bad--until Guy picked up.

“Yo,” Guy answered the phone and Adam couldn’t help smiling.

“Hey, man, it’s Adam.”

Guy’s reaction was immediate and loud. “Adam! What the hell, man, where have you been? We saw your injury on the news and then you vanished!”

“Too busy watching Days of our Lives, I guess.” Adam grinned at Guy’s scoff. “Plus I couldn’t really go anywhere with the wheelchair.”

“Shit,” Guy muttered. “So are you back home?”

Adam wasn’t really sure he could even call Minnesota home anymore, not after living in Denver for the past five years and Grand Forks before that. Even if it had only been five hours from Minneapolis, it might as well have been a lifetime away.

“I’m staying with my parents,” he said instead, glancing up as his mom came into the kitchen, a basket of laundry under her arm. She gave him an expectant look which he took as wanting an answer to her earlier question. He shook his head and she breezed on. He needed to get out of there.

“So why’d you call me?” Guy asked and Adam frowned.

“What?”

There was a slight pause. “You want to know where he is?”

“I--” Adam wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Guy scoffed again and something in Adam’s stomach tightened. “No offense, Banskie, but we both know I’m not your first choice for anything. He’s probably down at the rink right about now.”

Adam swallowed instead of replying. Was he really that transparent?

“He’d want to see you,” Guy went on when Adam stayed silent. 

“Yeah,” he muttered finally. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Charlie; he just wasn’t sure how it would go. Of all his former teammates, Charlie had been his closest friend, his best friend, but time had done its damage. 

“So go talk to him,” Guy said. Adam heard some scuffling and a muffled voice in the background. “And Connie says you have to come over for dinner this week.” He paused and lowered his voice. “You should probably eat before you come. Connie isn’t really the best c--Ow!”

Adam laughed, though his mind was already on finding a ride. “Definitely,” he said. “Call me when you figure out when.”

“Good luck, man,” Guy said, and Adam didn’t want to think why as he hung up. 

For a moment, he didn’t move, staring across the counter at the fridge, pinned with newspaper articles about himself. His crutches rested against the counter and his leg throbbed slightly as he moved it. It was still in the cast, from his foot all the way up to his thigh. Getting dressed in the mornings was a challenge. The doctor had said they might be able to take it off in a few weeks as long as the bone was healing properly. Adam could not wait for that day.

There was nothing to do sitting there, despite Adam’s reservations, and he drew himself together. “Mom!”

“Yeah, honey?” she called back from upstairs. 

He hesitated, but there was no reason to put it off. “I need a ride!”

*

It had been years since Adam had been in the downtown rink. During high school, they’d had their own rink and he’d had no reason to come down here. It hardly looked different, and Adam smiled to himself at the banners proclaiming the Ducks’ wins. That felt like a lifetime ago.

He could hear noise on the rink as he hobbled his way past the stands. He still wasn’t very good on the crutches yet, and stairs were impossible with the cast. He’d been sleeping downstairs in the guest room since he’d been home.

He made it to the cage at length, looking around for Charlie. On the ice, there were just a bunch of kids as far as Adam could see, in puffy coats and worn skates, fighting each other for control of a puck.

“Jason, pick it up!” Someone shouted from the other end of the ice. “Get the puck out!”

A short kid with brown hair shoved one of the teammates out of the way and slid the puck between his legs, but Adam wasn’t paying attention to the kids anymore. His attention was on the tall figure moving smoothly across the ice, closer and closer. Adam could recognize Charlie a mile away, with his light brown hair, blue-green eyes, and well-muscled stature that he certainly hadn’t had in high school. With every inch, Adam’s heart climbed higher in his throat.

Charlie hadn’t noticed him yet, and neither had any of the kids. He just stood by the barrier, resting on his crutches and trying to think what to say when someone finally noticed. 

Charlie was the first to notice, coming to an abrupt stop, ice spraying before him. For a moment, he stared, mouth dropping open as though trying to figure out if this was real. Then his face split into a grin, and Adam’s heart pounded loud enough to hear it in his ears.

“Adam?” Charlie said, jerking to motion. He hopped the barrier without a second thought and pulled Adam into a bear hug without so much as a warning.

Charlie’s arms were tight, his body warm, and in that moment, every thought, every feeling, came rushing back to Adam. He wanted to sigh, to close his eyes and hug Charlie back, but if he did, he would lose his crutches, and at the moment, they were the only thing keeping him upright, especially when Charlie stepped back.

Charlie’s eyes took him in, flitting from his face down to his crutches and the cast. He let out a low whistle.

“What’d you do to yourself, Banksie?”

“Barely a scrape,” Adam replied, trying to smile, but he found it difficult when Charlie met his eyes, like he knew everything Adam was thinking.

“Coach?” One of the kids had skated over and was eyeing Adam skeptically.

Something inside Adam sparked and he smiled for real this time. “You’re a coach?”

“In my off-time,” Charlie replied and turned to the rink. “Hey, guys, come here for a second.”

The rest of the team skated over, a few whispering to their friends. Most of them couldn’t be over thirteen, Adam guessed, still gangly and uncoordinated. The kids didn’t look impressed at Adam, though he doubted he looked too impressive with a cast that took up most of his leg and whatever clothes he could find to fit over it. He wasn’t going to go out in the snow in shorts.

“Guys, this is Adam Banks, right winger for the Colorado Avalanche, and a former teammate of mine.”

A couple looked reasonably impressed, but the kid named Jason pursed his lips. 

“What happened to your leg?”

Adam was used to this question. “Got on the wrong side of a defenseman. Broke my tibia in two places.”

The defensemen exchanged a glance at the back of the group. 

“So you’re still on a team?”

“Uh.” Adam hesitated. It wasn’t something uncomplicated, and not something he really wanted to discuss with a kid he didn’t even know.

“Jason,” Charlie said, sounding exasperated.

“What?” Jason demanded indignantly.

Charlie shook his head. “Go run some drills.” He shooed the kids back onto the ice and turned to Adam, a small smile on his face. “Sorry about Jason. They’re still learning tact.”

“Well, we both know you didn’t learn it at thirteen either.”

For a second, Charlie did nothing but gaze at Adam, as though remembering something, but then he laughed. “Touche.” He paused. “So you’re back?”

Something swelled in Adam’s chest at the question, even though it was a normal question to ask, but there was something else there.

“For a while, I guess,” he said. “The team sent me home to heal, then physical therapy, then who knows.” He tried his best not to think of what might happen if the therapy didn’t work and he couldn’t play anymore. Technically, he was still on the team until they knew for sure.

“I saw it,” Charlie said when the silence grew awkward in a way it had never used to be. Falling back into the old routine of being friends wasn’t as easy as Adam had hoped it might be. “The injury. I was watching the game on TV.”

Adam had seen it too, on replays, not to mention he felt it every time he tried to walk. “I can tell you, it was not well worth it.”

Charlie smiled, small and sort of sad. “Banksie.” He sighed. “What are we gonna do?”

“What do you mean?”

“You could never keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Excuse me?” Adam asked, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “Who was it that quit the team after not being named captain?”

“At least I always knew where my loyalties lay.”

Adam shot him a look. “Charlie.”

“I’m just kidding.” Charlie ruffled his hair with a smile. “Once a Duck, always a Duck. You were the best on the team, Banks. We needed you. I needed you.”

Adam smiled. It was easy to do this, the banter between them. It reminded him of old times, hanging out at Eden Hall, playing one-on-one at the rink after practice, skating on the pond the first weekend it froze over. 

“So where are you staying for all this recuperation?” Charlie asked, glancing at his team who were running drills down the ice.

“My parents.” Adam sighed. “I’ve only been home a month and it’s driving me insane. I just got out of the wheelchair last week, but my mom is treating me like I’m still a kid, and my dad won’t stop talking about what I should have done differently.”

He missed Denver. He missed his apartment and his teammates. He missed being able to take care of himself. Granted, it had been his choice to leave, though Coach had strongly recommended going somewhere where people could help him. It probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to stay since his apartment didn’t have an elevator anyway.

“You have to stay with them?”

Adam shrugged. “They’re my parents. Plus I don’t have to walk up stairs.” Other than that, Adam really didn’t have anyone else to stay with, not anyone who would be willing and able to do everything he needed. There were doctor appointments, and soon there would be therapy appointments. He couldn’t drive currently, which made getting around difficult. 

“Well, I know how well you get along with your parents,” Charlie said, and when Adam frowned, he laughed. “Why don’t you stay somewhere else?”

Adam paused. “I already have an apartment in Denver, and I can’t really afford another one, especially when I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Plus there are tons of appointments to go to, and my mom doesn’t work, so she can take me. I mean, I like my parents but there’s only so much I can take. It’s easiest, though.”

“Well,” Charlie said after a second, still watching the kids and not looking at Adam. “I have an extra room.” Adam looked at Charlie, unsure what he was saying. After all this time, they wouldn’t just fall back into old routines, would they? “And the building has an elevator.”

“Charlie,” Adam said slowly. “I don’t…”

Charlie turned to him finally, licking his lower lip. “Look, Adam, I know we can’t just pretend things are like they were in high school. We grew up and we drifted apart, but if you need a place to stay, away from your parents… We’re still friends, right?”

After all this time, Adam wasn’t sure how people could still be friends, but deep down, he knew they were even if they hadn’t really kept in touch. After high school, it had just seemed pointless to Adam. They’d gone to different schools, gone in different directions, and spending a few weekends a year hanging out wasn’t enough. Once a Duck, always a Duck didn’t seem to apply when you never talked.

He stared at Charlie, thoughts he’d always suppressed coming to the surface. He’d once fantasized about kissing him, about dragging him down on the ice and getting his hands down Charlie’s pants, but Charlie dated girls. Charlie dated Linda for three years and Adam had waited until college to come out, to find guys to make out with and have rushed, one-night stands with.

He wondered if Charlie would think of him differently if he told him he was gay. He didn’t try to keep it a secret, but keeping it quiet was much more beneficial to his career than broadcasting it. As far as he knew, only his team knew, only his friends back in Denver. He’d never quite gotten around to telling most of his old teammates. Only Connie knew, although he suspected she may have told Guy by the way he’d acted earlier.

He’d probably have to tell him eventually, but for the time being, Adam nodded at Charlie.

“Yeah, we’re still friends.” He glanced out at the ice and frowned. “You really mean it? About staying with you?”

He could almost feel Charlie’s smile, see the way he shifted beside him, hands going to the barrier. He didn’t wear a ring on his left hand. 

“As long as you don’t have loud, wall-shaking sex in the next room, and you pick up your wet towels, I completely mean it.”

Adam actually smiled. “You don’t have to worry about that.” Even if he didn’t have a cast on that prevented most sexual activities, he doubted there was anyone in town he’d actually want to hit on.

Charlie glanced at him and smiled. “Then welcome home, Banksie.” He clapped Adam’s shoulder. 

He left Adam, skating back onto the ice and shouting at the kids while Adam tried to work out what he’d just gotten himself into.

*

To say his mother wasn’t happy was an understatement, but at length, she relented and grudgingly helped Adam lug his few belongings to Charlie’s apartment. Most of Adam’s things were still in Denver, so he really only had clothes, his skates (which he couldn’t bear leaving behind), and a few photographs of the team.

Charlie’s apartment did, in fact, have an elevator, and Adam made it up without any help from his mom, though she hovered in the background, ready to step in at a moment’s notice. At this rate, he’d never properly get back to normal. 

The apartment was typical, with a small living room, kitchen, and two small bedrooms. It was decorated in a very simplistic manner, that is to say, nothing on the walls and a beat-up couch facing the television. Adam’s mom had tutted under her breath at the lack of decoration but thankfully said nothing.

It was relatively clean, although Adam suspected Charlie might have tidied up the first day to make a better impression. 

“This is your room,” Charlie said after his mom had left, with the assurance that he would call her more frequently than he had when he lived in Denver. The room was as big as Adam had expected, already furnished with a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser.

“Where’d you get so much furniture?”

Charlie shrugged, dropping Adam’s suitcase on the mattress. “My old roommate left it.”

Adam didn’t ask if it had been an ex-girlfriend, though he suspected it from the lingering flowery scent when he pulled open a drawer. 

“It’s nice,” he said instead, turning awkwardly on his crutches. “Are you really sure this is okay? Because my mom--”

“Adam,” Charlie interrupted softly. “It’s fine. You needed to get away from your parents, and my work is flexible. I can help you with whatever you need.”

“I don’t need help,” Adam insisted. He hadn’t left his parents’ just so he could get coddled by someone else, even if that person was Charlie.

“I know,” Charlie replied swiftly. “I just meant, well, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “You wanna get drunk and watch reality TV?”

He wasn’t reassured, but Adam shrugged. “Sure.”

“You still like mushrooms on your pizza?” Charlie asked, heading into the living room and digging his phone out of the couch cushions.

“Yeah.” Adam stopped at the couch. It was still a challenge to sit and stand, and he maneuvered himself down slowly. He reached down and hauled his leg up to sit on the coffee table. All he could see were his toes, perpetually cold these days. Outside, snow built up on Charlie’s window, frosting the pane.

“Where do you work that’s so flexible?” he asked as Charlie returned to the couch and handed him a beer. It wasn’t like Adam had to be careful about drinking anymore.

“I’m the Assistant Director at the Boys and Girls Club,” Charlie replied, flopping down next to Adam, a bit close considering the length of the couch. “I can come and go since I do a lot of outside work.”

“Assistant Director,” Adam repeated to himself. “That’s pretty big.”

Charlie smiled. “Not as big as being an NHL player. Surprised you still remember the little people.”

“Well, I did step on you to get there,” Adam said, and Charlie laughed.

“I’ve missed you, Banks.”

Something seized Adam’s chest, squeezing tightly even though he knew Charlie didn’t mean it that way.

“I missed you too, Conway.”

Charlie met his eyes, warm and soft, but the moment passed and he shifted. “So what’s your favorite trashy reality TV show? I’ve got to admit that Real Housewives is freakishly addictive.”

“I don’t watch much TV,” Adam admitted. “Not much time.”

“We’ll remedy that, don’t worry,” Charlie assured him, patting his knee, the good one. Adam couldn’t remember if Charlie had always been so free with his actions, or if it just seemed like it because it had been so long. Either way, his skin tingled under his jeans at the warmth of Charlie’s hand, if only there for a moment.

Charlie flicked on the TV, and Adam forced himself to take a drink of his beer. They weren’t going to get anywhere if Adam didn’t stop himself from thinking of Charlie that way. They were trying to work their friendship out, and his feelings weren’t going to get in the way of that, not this time.

*

“It’s so good to see you.” Connie hugged Adam tightly as they stood in the doorway. When she stood back, she punched him lightly in the arm. “You’re a jerk for never calling, Banks.”

“Sorry,” he apologized and felt Charlie nudging at his back to get him to move into the apartment. Once inside, Adam still felt awkward.

Guy and Connie hadn’t changed much since high school, and honestly, Adam hadn’t really thought they would last. But now they were married and Adam caught sight of the silver-plated frame he’d given them for the wedding sitting on a table by the couch.

“What’s for dinner?” Charlie asked, breaking the silence, and Adam found himself glad he’d thought to invite him along. Of course, he couldn’t have really asked Charlie to drive him and not come.

“I made lasagna,” Connie said, and on Charlie and Guy’s look, she glared. “There was a recipe.”

Charlie patted her shoulder gently as he moved past her to the living room. “We’ve seen your recipes before.”

“That cake was a fluke,” she argued, following Charlie. Adam hobbled in that direction, trying to navigate around the furniture - they had entirely too much of it. He preferred Charlie’s apartment with only three pieces in the living room. “It wasn’t supposed to collapse like that.”

Adam felt on the outside as everyone else laughed. He’d been away for so long; they all had their inside jokes and he wasn’t included in them. 

“At least it wasn’t the wedding cake,” Guy offered, sliding an arm around Connie, though she still looked affronted. 

“Laugh all you want, but you can’t even make toast,” she replied. “Should I show them the toaster?”

“No,” Guy interrupted sharply and laughed awkwardly. “How about we just get some drinks instead.”

Connie watched him knowingly as he headed for the kitchen then turned to Charlie and Adam. “It’s just a blob of metal. You wouldn’t recognize it anyway.” She rounded the couch and sat in a chair. Adam’s leg was starting to hurt from standing so long and he was glad to struggle into the chair opposite. He propped the crutches against the arm and looked up to find Connie watching him. “So how’s it going, Adam?”

It was a question he still hadn’t figured out how to answer without spilling out all his fears and worries about never playing hockey again, about having to find a new career after all this time, about the daily pain in his leg, the dread of upcoming therapy, the sense of defeat at moving back home.

Instead, he talked about the medical aspects because those, at least, were going somewhere.

“They did surgery to realign the bone, and I’ve got to keep the cast on another few weeks at least. Then I’ll start physical therapy and hopefully I won’t be a gimp my whole life.”

“You won’t,” Charlie said firmly. Adam didn’t reply to him. No one knew that for sure.

Guy returned with drinks for everyone, and he somehow squeezed into the chair with Connie. “Bet you’re thrilled to be back in Minnesota.”

“I do wish I’d broken my leg in the spring, not winter,” Adam agreed. Most days, it was difficult enough to navigate the snow on two good legs. “You should see me try to get dressed. It’s a mess getting pants on.” He was so looking forward to the day he got to wear something other than oversized sweats. 

“Just ask Charlie to help,” Guy said, and Adam nearly choked on his beer. Connie glanced between him and Charlie, who, to his credit, didn’t even react to Guy’s suggestion.

“I think we should eat,” she said abruptly, digging an elbow into Guy.

Adam’s face was hot, he could feel it, but he turned away from Charlie as he pulled himself up on his crutches. He didn’t know what Guy was trying to do, but it wasn’t helping. Maybe he wasn’t doing anything, but it didn’t feel like it to Adam.

The rest of dinner went fine, with no one making any weird suggestions. The lasagna was even edible, if not a little too chewy. Afterwards, Connie pulled him into the kitchen, though he mostly leaned against the counter as she did the dishes.

Glancing into the living room where Charlie and Guy were arguing about something, she lowered her voice.

“Have you told him?” she asked, making a little too much noise in the sink.

“Told him what?” Adam frowned, unable to stop himself from glancing at Charlie as well. There were a million things he wanted to tell Charlie, but he never did for various reasons.

“That you’re gay,” she said, putting a plate in the dishwasher.

Adam shrugged. “It’s not like it’s ever going to come up.” He didn’t plan on picking anyone up at a bar anytime soon.

“But he was your best friend. Don’t you think he should know?”

“Connie, we’re barely friends now. It’s been years since we were close. It’s not like I’m going to be doing anything other than watching TV and going to therapy while I’m staying with him.”

“Isn’t the best way to rebuild a friendship through honesty?”

Adam frowned at her innocent smile. She was far from innocent. “Why don’t you tell me about his roommate.”

“You mean you?”

“Before me. He said he had a roommate. Was it an ex-girlfriend?”

Connie paused, turning back to the sink and scrubbing a plate. “Sort of.”

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed at her sudden taciturn behaviour. “Did they break up? Who was she?”

Connie sighed. “Look, you don’t want me to tell him your secrets, and I don’t think he’d like me to tell you his. You’ll just have to ask him.”

“You’re no help.” Adam crossed his arms and she shrugged.

“If you want to know something, just ask. He’ll probably tell you. You were his best friend.”

It didn’t help the guilt Adam felt when she said that. After all, he was the reason they’d drifted apart. He didn’t take her advice, though, and watched her wash dishes instead.

*

Living with Charlie was one of those things Adam had thought about before, back in high school when they’d planned to go to college together and eventually get an apartment. Of course, that hadn’t happened when Adam had gotten recruited by UND. He’d also been living alone for most of the past five years, so living with a roommate who wasn’t a parent was strange.

Surprisingly, Charlie wasn’t a slob as Adam had always suspected. In high school, Charlie’s room had always been a mess, but the apartment was surprisingly neat. Of course, Adam hadn’t actually seen Charlie’s room, so he could have been completely off.

“When’s your doctor’s appointment?” Charlie asked, flopping down onto the couch where Adam was still in his pajamas, watching some morning talk show. After more than a month with nothing to do but watch television, he’d come to the conclusion that there was literally nothing good on.

Charlie’s leg pressed against his but Adam couldn’t move away easily, and he was forced to feel the warmth against him that clouded his mind. It would have been so much easier if Charlie was a jerk or not attractive, but he was neither of those things. He never had been.

“You don’t have to take me,” Adam said for what felt like the hundredth time that week. “My mom can totally--”

“Hey, you’re staying with me,” Charlie interrupted. “And do you really want your mom there?”

“No,” Adam admitted. “But you have work.”

“I told you it wasn’t a problem. Besides, you’re finally getting the cast off. It’s a big deal!”

“Only if the x-ray is good,” Adam pointed out, though he prayed it would be. Not that getting a giant boot would be any better but at least he could wear socks and not look stupid. And jeans. He could wear jeans again.

“Don’t be so negative, Banksie,” Charlie said, ruffling his hair. Adam ducked out of the way. “You’ll be skating in no time.”

It had already been seven weeks since the injury, seven long, agonizing weeks that weren’t made better by the fact that he had spent most of the last few staring at Charlie and knowing he could never have what he wanted.

Charlie always looked on the brightside. He was always the first to volunteer, the first to offer an idea. 

Adam kept thinking about what Connie had said, to tell him. The thing was, Adam didn’t see what kind of a difference it would make, whether Charlie knew he was gay or not. Either he wouldn’t care or he would think differently of him, which Adam wasn’t sure he could bear. Their friendship was already on a tenuous footing as it was--they had less in common these days, less to talk about, and Adam constantly felt as though he was intruding on Charlie’s life.

“So what time is the appointment?” Charlie asked again, and Adam gave in.

“Three.”

“Then I’ll be here at two-thirty,” Charlie said, patting his knee as he got up. “You better be in real clothes unless you’re trying to pick up a hot nurse.”

Adam didn’t reply and Charlie left for work. Unless the hot nurse was a guy, Adam was pretty sure he wouldn’t have any interest.

*

By some miracle, the cast came off and Adam was fitted with an even uglier, if possible, boot. The nurse who put it on was actually kind of attractive, and he did smile at Adam as he explained how to do it. Charlie watched from the corner, arms crossed and looking impatient. The appointment had gone long and Adam wondered if he was late for something.

“Do you need to get going?” he asked as the nurse, Brent, the guy had told him with a cheeky smile, handed him some forms to fill out.

“No,” Charlie replied.

“I can just call--”

“I’m good.”

“Okay,” Adam said slowly, though he got the distinct impression that Charlie wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

“You’re all set,” Brent said when Adam handed back the forms. “Make a follow-up appointment with the receptionist, and I went ahead and made an appointment with a physical therapist for next week. Here’s their card.”

It didn’t escape Adam’s notice the phone number scribbled on the back. He said nothing and slipped it in his pocket.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Charlie cleared his throat and Adam jerked back to himself. Right, Charlie was standing right there. He pulled on his coat as Brent left and slid off the table. Charlie handed him his crutches and walked slowly with him to the waiting area.

Back in the car, Adam still struggled to get his foot in the door, but Charlie merely sat in the driver’s seat. The air between them was frosty, and not just because of the two feet of snow piled everywhere. It wasn’t even December; it was going to be a long winter.

“That guy was hitting on you,” Charlie said when Adam finally got the door shut.

Adam’s heart jumped into his throat but he tried to laugh it away. “Was he?”

Charlie stared, and Adam shivered. They could at least turn on the heater. “He practically jumped you.”

Adam frowned, mostly at Charlie’s reaction. “I didn’t notice, I guess. It’s not a big deal, is it?”

If this was how Charlie reacted to gay people, he wasn’t sure he should tell him.

“It’s just really unprofessional,” Charlie said, turning on the car finally. “Plus, you’re straight. You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Oh, yeah,” Adam agreed jerkily. “Weird.”

Charlie shook his head, luckily not paying attention to his awkwardness. It was strange to lie about it, especially to Charlie, and Connie’s words came back to him. They weren’t going to rebuild any sort of trust if he wasn’t honest.

“I think he even gave you his number.”

“He did?” Adam could feel the card in his pocket, the corner pressing into his leg. He hoped Charlie wouldn’t demand to see it, not that he was planning on calling Brent at all. He just didn’t want to confirm Charlie’s suspicions. 

“You’re so oblivious, Adam,” Charlie said as they pulled out of the lot.

Adam forced himself to smile. “Guess so.”

For a moment, no one spoke, although Adam was now trying to figure out a way to tell Charlie without him freaking out. How was he supposed to drop something like that one someone who had once known him so well?

Finally, Charlie ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve got practice tonight if you want to come watch.”

Adam didn’t have anything else to do aside from figure out what to say, so he shrugged. “Sure.”

Charlie glanced at him but said nothing as they drove.

*

Maybe agreeing to watch practice had been a bad idea as Adam sat in the box and watched the kids skating back and forth on the ice. It made him long to get out there, to be able to skate again, to play hockey.

Leaning back on the bench, his back hit the wall and he shoved a hand in his pocket. It hit the business card and he pulled it out, gazing at the number scribbled across the back in quick handwriting. It wasn’t like Adam hadn’t dated before. There had been a guy in Denver, but they’d broken up several months before his injury. Adam hadn’t even heard from him, but it wasn’t surprising. Chris had always said that Adam was going to get hurt, and he’d been right, much to Adam’s annoyance.

“I looked you up on youtube.” 

Adam jumped at the sudden interruption, nearly dropping the card. He shoved it in his pocket instead as he looked up to find Jason leaning against the barrier. It barely came up higher than his chest.

“Oh?” he asked. Adam had never looked himself up on youtube or anywhere else.

“You were pretty good,” Jason said, not sounding too impressed.

“Thanks.” Adam wasn’t sure it was really a compliment. “You guys are pretty good too.”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “Coach Conway made a big difference. How come he didn’t go pro?”

Adam shrugged. “Didn’t want to.” He remembered vague conversations about it, one loud argument everyone could hear about Adam going to UND instead of Minnesota. Charlie had wanted to go pro, but somewhere between high school and college, he changed his mind. Adam had never really found out why.

“He talks about you a lot,” Jason said, and Adam wasn’t sure what that meant or why Jason was telling him.

“He does?”

“He used to show us your games, you know, for references. He said you were the best in the league.”

Adam smiled. “I think he might have been exaggerating.”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, and it didn’t even hurt as much as Adam would have expected. “But you’re not bad.”

“Thanks,” Adam said again, frowning slightly.

“Jason, get back out there!” Charlie shouted from the rink. Jason rolled his eyes but skated away. Adam almost smiled. He wondered if he’d been that belligerent at thirteen. Probably not. His dad would have killed him.

He watched Charlie direct the kids into a parallel line for drills. It was just like the old days except Coach Bombay wasn’t there to yell at them when they got it wrong. They weren’t kids anymore, though. Adam couldn’t go on pretending things were fine, not when Charlie got so upset about a guy hitting on him, no matter how clueless he played it. They’d never move forward without being honest. Adam hated Connie for that.

Charlie skated over when the kids were busy shooting pucks at each other. “We’re almost done,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I was thinking Chinese for dinner. Sound okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. “Sounds fine.” Chinese was as good as any to change Charlie’s view of him.

“Great.” Charlie beamed and Adam’s stomach fluttered stupidly. “Then maybe you can finally tell me about life before the injury.”

“Sure,” Adam said, although he wasn’t sure there was much to tell. Besides, he doubted Charlie would care after what he really had to say.

Charlie knocked on the barrier and left. Adam slid his hand in his pocket again, curling around the business card. He just had to get it over with was all.

*

Everything was so much warmer with socks on, Adam decided, though he still couldn’t really curl up on the couch with his leg in the boot, but it was slightly less bulky than the cast had been. 

“When did you start liking tofu?” Charlie asked as he popped open a box and set it on the coffee table. The TV was on yet another reality show and Adam was beginning to think Charlie had a problem.

“There’s a Chinese guy on the team, Lei Xu. He is the best cook I’ve ever met. He makes great tofu.” Yet another thing Adam missed about Denver.

Charlie made a vague noise as he dug into the chicken. Adam didn’t, though. He had to get this out before he lost his nerve.

“Not hungry?” Charlie asked when he didn’t eat.

Bracing himself, Adam turned towards Charlie, ignoring the chopstick in his mouth. “I need to tell you something.”

Charlie moved slowly, pulling the chopstick out, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows. “Is it a good thing?”

“That depends on your perspective, I guess,” Adam allowed. It never got any easier, telling people this. It was so much easier when they just knew.

“Is it about your leg?” Charlie asked. “Is it the team? Did they let you go?”

Adam shook his head. “No.” Why was this so hard? It was just a few words. Next to him, Charlie stared at him, as though expecting the worst. He just had to do it. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his hands together. “This isn’t easy, and I’m really just hoping you don’t freak out.” Charlie didn’t react except to look even more apprehensive.

“Are you dying?”

This was it. No going back now. “I’m gay.”

The words seemed to echo around them for a moment, interrupted only by periodic screeching from the TV.

“Oh,” Charlie said finally, squinting slightly, not quite looking at Adam.

“Oh?”

“Oh.”

Adam didn’t know what that meant, and his heart was beginning to race. “Oh good? Bad? What?”

Charlie didn’t respond for a moment until he shook his head. “Oh nothing.”

“Oh.” Adam frowned. “Wait, what does that mean?”

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess I’m surprised. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“We didn’t talk for a long time,” Adam pointed out, though he still wasn’t sure if Charlie was taking this well or not. “I just thought it wasn’t really important.”

Charlie frowned. “Did you know? Back in high school?”

Guilt crept into Adam’s stomach again as he realized what Charlie was thinking. “I wasn’t ready for anyone to know then.”

“Not even me.”

Adam winced. “It’s not easy to come out. You never know how people are going to react, if you’ll never talk to them again afterwards. I didn’t want that to happen.”

Charlie was still frowning, his chopsticks forgotten in his hand. “So why are you telling me now?”

Adam sighed, looking away. At least Charlie wasn’t disowning him, but the quiet disappointment in the lack of trust hurt enough. 

“Two months ago, I had a great career and a future and I didn’t think I’d ever end up back here. I didn’t think we’d ever have a second chance. And Connie said—”

“Connie knew?” Charlie interrupted. “You told her before you told me?”

They definitely were not getting anywhere Adam wanted to be in this conversation. “She figured it out.” He hadn’t exactly told her about it, but when he had shown up to the wedding without a date, she’d started poking and prying until she got the truth. “That’s not the point. I just wanted to be honest about who I am.”

For a long time, Charlie said nothing, leaning back into the couch. He didn’t eat or ask any questions. He just stared unseeingly at the television. It was torture, not knowing what Charlie was thinking. He’d used to know from every movement of his face what he was thinking. That was years ago, though. Now, he couldn’t even tell if he was angry or not.

Finally, Charlie stirred, watching Adam. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

A wave of relief crashed over Adam at the question. He smiled. “If I had a boyfriend, you think I would have left?” He shook his head. “There was this guy a few months ago, but it didn’t work out.”

Charlie nodded slowly. “If you’re worried what I think, you shouldn’t. Adam, you’re my best friend.”

Adam felt both relief and a strange tightening to his chest. Just friends was all they’d ever be. Although, at this point, he’d take it over not being friends at all.

Charlie looked up a second later, as though a thought occurred to him. “Is that why we stopped talking?”

“No,” Adam said quickly. “That was just, you know, I don’t know. Growing up?”

“Uh, no,” Charlie said, grabbing the food off the table finally. “That was you getting too good for the rest of us townies.”

“You’re not a townie,” Adam argued because he knew Charlie wasn’t completely serious about the ‘too good’ thing, and even if he was, he wouldn’t listen to any protests. 

“I’ve lived in the same town my entire life.”

“No, you grew up in Minneapolis and now you live in St. Paul.”

Charlie scoffed, smiling despite Adam’s sad attempt at disputing him. “I didn’t even leave for college,” he pointed out, shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth.

“You can’t be a townie in a big town,” Adam tried to argue. “Besides, who cares where you live. You have a great job and you still get to coach. You still get to do what you love.”

He tried not to bring it up because he didn’t want the sympathy, but sometimes, it was too hard to ignore the fact that he might never get back on the ice. Even if his leg did heal and the therapy worked, one wrong hit and he’d be down for more than a period. He couldn’t ignore it forever—it was his future after all. Instead of meeting Charlie’s gaze, that he could feel on him, he grabbed a carton off the table and dug a fork inside. 

“It’s not over,” Charlie said, but Adam shook his head.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” he said, poking the tofu. “The cast is off, so let’s just be grateful for that.”

“Okay.” Charlie said nothing else, settling into the couch to eat his dinner.

Adam felt himself do it, pushing away, but he couldn’t stop himself. It had become a defense mechanism after so many years of having to be the best for his dad, for the team, for everyone. The further away people were, the less they could see of the cracks in his veneer. 

Reality TV sucked, Adam decided as he watched yet another catfight break out on screen. At least his life, though sucky, wasn’t broadcast for everyone to see. It was his one comfort as he and Charlie ate in silence, and it wasn’t very big of one.

*

The first weekend in December, Adam allowed Charlie to drag him to the Ducks-Hawks match. It was strangely just as Adam remembered, though his old coach was long gone. Down on the ice, he watched Charlie lead his team in warm-ups. Ever since Adam’s secret divulging, things had changed ever so slightly, not in a bad way, just changed. He wasn’t sure, but he could swear that Charlie had become even freer with his hands-on approach to friendship.

Of course, Adam couldn’t remember how it had used to be, so he had no comparison. It was probably just his imagination wanting there to be something more there.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” boomed the announcer’s voice. “Welcome to Hawks V Ducks! The annual showdown for lifelong rivals, Coach Conway and Coach Larson.”

Adam tore his eyes from Charlie at the mention of Larson, finding the tall, blond man, so much changed from the ten year old Adam had once been friends with. 

“Yep, that Larson.”

At the voice in his ear, Adam twisted around, eyes widening. “Goldberg!”

Goldberg grinned at him, sliding on the bench next to him. Adam almost hadn’t recognized him - Goldberg had evidently lost all his babyfat, leaving his face thin but still cheerful as he grinned.

“I thought you moved back to Philadelphia,” Adam said, shifting his leg slightly, though it took both hands to do it.

Goldberg shrugged. “I’m in for a few days on business.”

“Business?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Cake Eater!” Goldberg slapped him painfully on the back. “Goldberg didn’t turn out to be such a slacker after all.”

“No, I just…” Adam didn’t know what to say. Everything had changed so much since he’d left.

Goldberg let it slide for once and nodded at Adam’s leg. “That’s a nice accessory you got.”

“Matches my eyes,” Adam deadpanned. He’d been to his first physical therapy session a few days ago, and though the woman had been nice, even she couldn’t be nice about the fact that his career was probably over.

“Hey, you don’t get to steal sarcasm,” Goldberg said, facing towards the rink. The kids had cleared off for a minute before the game started. “That’s my shtick.” He paused and nodded at Charlie. “Hear you’re shacking up with Charlie.”

“What?” Adam’s eyes widened and he felt his face growing hot. 

“You know, rooming. Man, I lived with him for a year in college. It was torture. He left his wet towels everywhere.”

Adam took a deep breath, telling himself to get a grip. Goldberg didn’t know he was gay, and he certainly didn’t think he and Charlie were together. 

“He doesn’t do that now. He’s a pretty great roommate actually.”

“I bet,” Goldberg muttered, but before Adam had a chance to ask what he meant, the buzzer rang and the match started.

The Ducks were better than Adam had seen at practice, though he could see Charlie shouting at them from time to time. Jason, to his credit, played well and stole the puck several times, making a goal at the end of the first period. 

“You want some nachos?” Goldberg asked as the buzzer rang.

“No, thanks.” Adam was too busy watching Charlie talk to the team, and Goldberg left a minute later. 

Charlie really was a great coach, but Adam had known that since middle school. He listened and he came up with solutions that worked for everyone. He could probably even coach a pro team if he wanted, but Adam wasn’t sure what Charlie really wanted these days. He seemed content with his job and coaching peewees. He seemed happy with his life.

Adam couldn’t really say the same. His career in hockey was dwindling, and he had never really thought about what he’d do afterwards. Sure, he’d majored in political science, but it was mostly because it worked best around practices. He’d never had any intention of becoming a politician or a lawyer. He almost felt stupid for not seeing this. Even as a kid, he’d always been the most injured on the team, targeted by other players. He had expected his career to end some day, but not after only five years.

Charlie had life figured out and Adam had no idea.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in his head, Banks,” Goldberg said as he returned with a gooey plate of nachos. 

Adam shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“I bet you were.” Goldberg laughed and took a bite, but Adam turned to him.

“What does that mean?”

Play had resumed on the ice, but Adam wasn’t paying a bit of attention to what was going on. He watched Goldberg lick cheese off his fingers and waited for an answer.

“Oh, come on, Banks. You’ve always had it bad for Charlie.”

Adam stared, mouth dropping open in both shock and fear. “What?”

Goldberg didn’t act as though he’d said anything strange. “You two were joined at the hip for a while there, and, uh, the staring doesn’t exactly say ‘over it’ if you know what I mean.”

Adam didn’t know how to argue that, not that there was really anything to argue, but still. He felt as though he should refute it, if only for his reputation’s sake. 

“That’s not—I don’t—I’m not,” he stuttered, unable to make a clear sentence out of his jumbled thoughts.

“Hey, secret’s safe with me,” Goldberg promised, though Adam immediately doubted that. Goldberg had never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

“I don’t have a secret,” Adam insisted anyway, but Goldberg waved him away.

“Gay, straight, don’t matter to me. I know how it feels. Julie never liked me back either.”

“Maybe because you insulted her and got her sick so you could steal her place on the team?”

Goldberg ignored that. “I might not have been the smartest duck in the flock, but I wasn’t blind, man. Just hang in there.”

Frowning, Adam didn’t know what to say to that, and he was glad when Goldberg let it drop. He returned to watching the game and firmly didn’t glance Charlie’s way the rest of the time.

*

“What’d you think?” Charlie asked as they drove home, navigating the snow-plowed streets. Adam had spent most of the drive gazing unseeingly out the window. 

“The team’s good,” he said. “You seem really good with them.”

Charlie didn’t reply for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asked finally, frowning and glancing alternately at him and the road.

“I’m just tired, I guess,” Adam replied, though he was mostly distracted thinking about what Goldberg had said, what Julie had said. Why was it that everyone else could figure him out but Charlie remained oblivious? Not that he wanted Charlie to figure it out. That would just make everything more awkward.

“I saw Goldberg came.” Charlie looked at him again. “He didn’t stick around?”

“He said he had work or something. Isn’t that weird?” He smiled slightly. “Goldberg, working, a real job.”

Charlie smiled. “It is kind of weird. Sometimes, it feels like high school was just a few years ago.”

Adam wouldn’t have said it, but he was glad high school was behind them. Even if there had been a lot of good times, there had also been a lot of heartache as he watched Charlie date girls and treat him like a brother. It had almost been a relief to get away from seeing it every day, from having to listen to how hot the girl was, how nice and sweet and perfect. Of course, it had been his fault that he couldn’t get over Charlie, and apparently, ten years later, not much had changed.

It had been easier to forget when he was living away, in Denver where Charlie never came. It was much more difficult when they were living together and Adam got to see Charlie after his showers in only a towel with water dripping down his torso. Yes, much harder.

He needed to get over this, he decided, if they were ever going to be actual friends again. He needed to get over Charlie and move on with his life.

That was the resolution Adam made as they headed back to Charlie’s apartment. He didn’t know how but there had to be a way and he’d find it. That was at least one thing he could control in his immediate future.

*

Adam had told Charlie he didn’t have to stay for physical therapy, but he’d just shrugged and said, “If I see how it’s done, I can help you at home.”

He called it home like Adam wasn’t just staying there temporarily, like after he was healed, Adam wouldn’t have to figure out the next step, whether he’d be able to go back to Denver or he’d be stuck in St. Paul. At this point, he wasn’t sure which he wanted more.

“It’s really boring,” Adam assured him as he sat on the table, waiting for the therapist to come in. Dr. McCline was a cheery black woman who, despite Adam’s predicament, seemed positive that things would turn out alright. She was probably required to say that. 

Charlie patted his knee—he still did it a lot and Adam couldn’t bring himself to ask about it. “We gotta get you on your feet as quick as possible or I’m afraid you might literally become a couch potato.”

“You’re the one who subscribes to three hundred channels,” Adam pointed out. Back home, he didn’t even have cable. Just the internet and a bike.

“We’re not all hockey stars, too busy for even TV.”

Adam frowned, but he didn’t get a chance to argue as the door opened and Dr. McCline entered, smiling as usual.

“Morning, Adam,” she greeted him. “I see you’ve brought a friend.”

“This is Charlie,” Adam said as they shook hands. “I’m staying with him while I’m here.”

“We used to play together,” Charlie offered, glancing at Adam.

Dr. McCline flipped open her folder. “So, we’re going to continue the small movements exercises. Did you work on it much this week?”

Adam thought back to her instructions at the last session. He hadn’t really done much since every time he put much weight on his leg, it felt like he was going to fall over. Even with the crutches, the amount of weight he put on it was minimal.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she said at his silence. “We’ll go over it again and maybe Charlie, here, can help keep you on track at home.”

Adam nodded, and he grabbed his crutches to follow her out to the exercise gym. Most of it were blue mats and small tools, not at all like a typical gym. 

The exercises were simple, and normally, Adam would have thought them stupid, but with the boot and the broken leg, even walking a few feet was difficult. He tired out a lot quicker than usual too, and after half an hour of working, all he wanted to do was take a nap. 

“You’re starting to get it,” Dr. McCline offered unhelpfully as Adam staggered and Charlie grabbed him before he could do too much more damage to himself.

“Thanks,” Adam muttered, feeling Charlie’s hand on his side, keeping him steady, pushing him back upright. To his dismay, his heart beat faster at the touch and he swallowed nervously. It didn’t feel like he was getting it.

“Alright,” Dr. McCline said once she let Adam have his crutches back, much to his relief. “You’re safe for now. Let’s go back to my office and I’ll show Charlie how to massage the muscles properly. Wouldn’t want another injury.”

“Uh,” Adam said uselessly as both Charlie and Dr. McCline headed for the office and he was left to drag himself after. The only thing worse than being near Charlie was Charlie touching him. There was nothing he could do to stop it, though, so he hauled himself up on the table and took off the brace as Dr. McCline started the demonstration. Adam wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying, staring at the ceiling and wondering how he got himself into these situations.

*

The snow only got heavier as December crept on and the holidays approached. Normally, Adam would have appreciated the onset of Christmas with the music and decorations. Charlie had dragged out a scraggly-looking fake tree and set it up in the corner. Adam got the feeling he probably usually spent Christmas with his mom, and Adam knew he’d have to go to his own house. A part of him would much rather have spent it with Charlie, curled up in front of the TV, watching the _A Christmas Story_ marathon.

Charlie did start to help him with his therapy, setting aside a few minutes a day after work to work on walking. There was some improvement, which helped to lift Adam’s spirits, especially the day he successfully walked without crutches, from the kitchen counter to the couch. Of course, by the time he did that a few times, his leg felt like it was going to give out.

“Just sit down,” Charlie told him, going to the kitchen and grabbing a glass out of the cupboard. He filled it with water as Adam slid onto the couch and pulled his leg up. 

When Charlie didn’t immediately come back with the water, Adam craned back to see him.

“Charlie?”

“He did give you his number.”

“Who?” 

Charlie jerked to life, a small white piece of paper in his hands. “The guy from the doctor’s office. He did give you his number.”

Adam bit his lip as he realized what Charlie was talking about. He’d found the card in his pocket a few days ago and dropped it on the counter, completely forgetting about Brent’s number on the back.

“Oh, yeah,” Adam said, unsure what else to say. He hadn’t really thought about Brent since that day.

Charlie returned to the couch, handing Adam the water and undoing the boot. He slid it off, frowning slightly the whole time. Adam watched him cautiously, unsure if he should say something or not. What did it matter that Brent had been hitting on him?

“Did you call him?”

Adam’s eyes widened at the question, and between that and Charlie’s hands smoothing down his leg, he couldn’t seem to find the words to reply. 

“Uh, n-no,” he said finally.

Charlie didn’t reply again for a while, continuing the massage like Dr. McCline had showed him. Adam was more concerned with Charlie’s hands, soft but slightly calloused, pressing into the muscles. Despite the slight chill in the apartment, Adam felt too hot. He forced himself to take a drink of water.

“Why not?” Charlie asked a minute later, staring intently at Adam’s leg.

“Um, I don’t know.” Adam frowned. _I have a hopeless crush on you that you’ll never return._ “Busy, I guess.”

“Watching TV?” Charlie glanced at him, a small smile at the corner of his mouth to show he was joking. “Come on, Banksie, he not your type?”

 _You’re my type._ Adam shook his head. “He was good-looking, I guess.” Honestly, he didn’t really remember much about Brent except his name, but Charlie’s question hit home. Why hadn’t he called? If he was trying to stop thinking about Charlie, a date would be the perfect solution, right? “Maybe I should call him. Do you think I should call him?”

He wasn’t sure what he wanted Charlie to do, but it wasn’t for him to turn back to his leg and shrug. 

“If you want.”

Adam was just fooling himself, he thought, leaning back on the couch and keeping his eyes off Charlie as he continued the massage. It was slow and thorough, rolling the muscles, warming them and smoothing them down. Maybe Charlie should have been a masseur instead. 

Maybe he would, he decided. He’d call Brent and go on a date. He could date whoever he wanted.

*

Adam hugged the comforter around him, the same flowery smell on it as had been in the dresser. The room was pitch black and he’d heard Charlie’s door close five minutes ago. Brent’s number sat on the beside table and he’d vowed to call in the morning. He probably should have done it now before he lost his resolve, but it was late and he was tired.

He couldn’t help thinking of Charlie’s hands on him, on his leg, holding his hand when he wobbled in his exercises. A part of him wished he could just tell Charlie the truth and Charlie would miraculously return the feelings and they’d live happily ever after. Life wasn’t a Disney movie, though, and that probably wouldn’t happen, Adam had to admit.

The bed was warm and soft, and Adam felt sleep tugging him down. He was almost there when a voice stirred him.

“Adam?”

It was Charlie, and Adam opened his eyes to a sliver of light from the living room.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask you…” He trailed off and Adam fought off sleep as he yawned.

“Yeah, Charlie?”

“There’s this Christmas pageant thing we’re doing down at the Club. I was wondering if you’d want to help out.”

“Sure,” Adam murmured, too lost in his pillow to care what Charlie was asking him. He’d do anything he asked.

The gap of light widened and Adam barely noticed Charlie coming to the bed. He opened his eyes as Charlie hovered in front of him.

“Hm?” he hummed softly, too warm, too tired.

Charlie smiled, reaching out, fingers brushing Adam’s hair from his eyes. It had grown too long since he’d been back. “You’re a good guy, Adam.”

Adam laughed softly, pressing his face into the pillow. “Sure, Charlie.”

Charlie paused but rose a minute later. “’Night, Banksie.”

“’Night, Conway,” Adam murmured, already asleep by the time the door shut.

*

Adam was half-convinced he’d dreamed the whole thing until Charlie said, “So the pageant is next weekend,” as he scraped eggs onto two plates and set one in front of Adam.

“What?” Adam wasn’t fully awake anyway, and now he wasn’t sure of anything.

Charlie sat down on the couch—he didn’t have a dining room table, or a dining room for that matter. “I was thinking maybe you could take tickets. Something that you don’t have to stand up for a long time.”

“Right,” Adam muttered, shaking his head. “Sure.”

Charlie smiled at him. “You awake there?”

“I was never a morning person.” He poked at his eggs, thinking of the card on his nightstand. He was still decided to call Brent. It wasn’t as though he had anything to lose. It would just be a date. He hadn’t been on a date in months, but it wasn’t that hard to get back into the swing of things. He just felt awkward thinking about it with Charlie sitting less than a foot from him, their feet practically touching on the coffee table. 

“You were always more fun at night,” Charlie agreed with a laugh. “What’s your plan for today?”

Adam shrugged. He didn’t think Charlie would want to hear about his plan to call Brent. “More mind-numbing TV? I swear I’ve lost a hundred brain cells since I came here.”

Charlie rolled his eyes but got up from the couch. He went into his room as Adam pushed the eggs around on his plate. Coming back, he handed Adam a book. “Here, I saw this and thought you’d like it. Something to do other than TV.”

Adam turned it over in his hands, running his fingers over the title. “The Once and Future King?”

“It’s about King Arthur. You know, how even though he died, he’ll come back when the world needs him.”

“Thanks for spoiling the ending.”

Charlie shoved his shoulder then gripped it tightly. “Shut up and read it. You’ll like it.”

Adam smiled at the book, Charlie’s hand still on his shoulder. “Fine.”

Charlie gazed at him for a moment before grabbing his plate and putting it in the sink. “I gotta get going. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed, though he didn’t know where else he would be except for the apartment. He still wasn’t allowed to drive. 

When Charlie was gone, Adam sighed at the book. It was just a book. Setting it aside, he hauled himself up and reached for his crutches but stopped. He could do this without the crutches.

It took longer than usual to make it to the bedroom, moving with small, stuttered steps, but he let out a relieved breath when he reached the doorjamb. At the bed, he slid down and grabbed his phone off the table. Nerves built up in his chest, heart speeding up as he punched in Brent’s number and listened to it ring.

“Hi,” he said when it picked up. “It’s Adam, from the doctor’s office.”

*

“I’m really glad you said yes.”

Adam looked up from his burger at Connie across the table. She smiled and reached for her glass. 

“I hadn’t heard from you in a while,” she went on. “Wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

The way she said it, Adam took it she didn’t just mean his leg.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Yeah?” She leaned in over the table even though they were in a small local diner and there weren’t many people there. “Charlie’s good?”

“Seems fine.” He knew what she was getting at, but there was really nothing to tell.

“Have you guys talked?” she asked, and she was terrible at being subtle, Adam thought. He rolled his eyes and ate a french fry.

“I told him, if that’s what you mean.”

“That is exactly what I meant,” she replied. “So what’d he say?”

Adam shrugged. “Nothing really.”

“Nothing?” she repeated, eyebrows furrowing. “Really?”

“Yeah.” It had all been kind of anti-climactic.

“Hm,” she said, sitting back and crossing her arms.

“What?” It was a bit suspicious, the way she reacted.

She shook her head. “I guess I just expected he’d react, you know, more than nothing.”

“I’m just glad he’s okay with it.” Adam wasn’t sure how okay since Charlie didn’t seem to like the idea of Adam dating, or maybe he didn’t care at all. Adam wasn’t sure which was worse.

“You didn’t think he would be?”

“It’s not like we knew anyone who was gay in high school. No one really talked about it. Just because you think you know someone doesn’t mean you always do.” He shrugged, glancing around the walls of the diner. The walls were plastered with black and white photos of old Hollywood stars, and the large front windows were painted with Christmas decorations.

“I guess,” Connie agreed after a minute. “So any plans for Christmas?”

“Parents, probably. It’s a whole lot harder to avoid them when you’re in the same town.” Somehow, he’d managed to get out of coming home for Christmas for the past two years, but he doubted this year would be so easy. His mother had already called to ask what his favorite dessert was so she could make it. 

“You’re welcome to come to our house,” she offered. “Charlie usually stops by in the afternoon. You could come.”

“Maybe,” he said, though he doubted he’d escape his parents even for a minute that day. 

Outside, it started to snow, fresh powder covering up the gray slush on the sidewalks. It made things look clean and pretty, but underneath it all, it was still a mess and Adam knew it.

*

Adam didn’t tell Charlie about his date with Brent, not because he was worried Charlie might react badly, but because if he told him, it would make it real. He’d be going out with Brent, starting something new, and that in itself was terrifying. Of course, that didn’t stop Thursday from rolling around and Adam’s phone chiming with a text.

“Who’s that?” Charlie asked as he cracked open a beer and flipped channels.

Adam took a breath and sent a quick response. “It’s Brent.” He didn’t look at Charlie as he grabbed his crutches and got up from the couch.

“Wait, the nurse guy?” Charlie asked, staring at Adam’s back. “Are you going out with him?”

Adam pulled on his coat, glad he could finally stand without the crutches at least. It made dressing so much easier. He hadn’t really put too much thought into his outfit tonight, trying not to overthink it, like he did most things. Obviously it had worked because Charlie hadn’t even noticed the clean jeans and his nicest jacket.

“Yeah,” he said, avoiding Charlie’s eyes. “I’ll probably be back later, so you don’t have to wait up or whatever.”

He didn’t know what he was saying, just rambling, words tumbling out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous, trying to explain this to Charlie. Maybe he was just nervous about the date.

He passed Charlie, heading for the front door. Brent had texted that he was downstairs. Adam really didn’t want to go through the awkwardness of introductions again, especially if the way Charlie was frowning was any indication of how he might react.

“I’ll see you later,” he said quickly, leaving before Charlie could say anything. The door shut behind him and he let out a breath. He didn’t know why it felt so weird, but it did. There was nothing he could do now but enjoy his date, or try to, if he could get Charlie’s expression out of his mind. He set off for the elevator, determined to enjoy the evening, Charlie or no.

*

Adam sat across from Brent in a mix between a fancy restaurant and a burger joint. He wasn’t too sure which one it was, and it only made things weird. Brent, to his credit, was charming with his wide smile and dark brown eyes that stared into Adam.

“Honestly,” Brent said after they ordered and the server had delivered their drinks. “I was surprised you called, especially since your boyfriend glared at me that whole appointment.”

“Boyfriend?” Adam shook his head with a smile. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That guy who practically shot daggers out of his eyes when I was trying to flirt with you?” Brent asked, sweeping back his hair. “Seemed like one.”

Adam shook his head again. “Wait, you thought I had a boyfriend and you still hit on me?”

Brent shrugged with a smirk. “You’re hot. And I have a thing for athletes. I think maybe it’s the reckless injuries.”

Adam smiled, though he didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, he thought of Charlie, his definitely-not boyfriend. He didn’t remember him glaring, but he’d been distracted by Brent’s obvious flirting and hoping Charlie hadn’t noticed. 

“So what’s the deal with the not-boyfriend?” Brent asked curiously, inclining across the table. Something in Adam clenched nervously as the action, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d been on plenty of dates before. Why was this different?

“He’s just an old friend, that’s all.”

“You never…?”

“No.” Adam shook his head. “He’s straight.”

“Good,” Brent said, dragging a finger up Adam’s arm and Adam shivered involuntarily. 

Adam grabbed his drink and took a large gulp. He could do this. It was just a date with a guy who wasn’t Charlie. Brent was the opposite of Charlie—tall, slim, suave. He knew what he was doing, clearly. Adam was the one who had no idea what he was doing here.

Just a date, he told himself firmly. Not a relationship or anything else complicated. It felt like so much more somehow, as if this date was the start of something entirely different, a change. Not entirely a good change either, though Adam couldn’t put his finger on why.

It might have been the way Brent smirked at him across the table or the way his foot crept up his good leg. Or it might have been how even though Adam was sitting across from a guy who was clearly interested, he could only think of Charlie and if he was still sitting in front of the TV or if he’d gone out without him.

So much for a clean start.

*

Despite Brent’s clear interest, Adam turned down his offer to go back to his place afterwards. He couldn’t even remember the excuse he’d made, too eager to get back to the apartment, back to Charlie.

“Don’t wait three more weeks to call me, okay?” Brent said as they stood at the elevator.

“Okay,” Adam said, though he probably wouldn’t be calling Brent again. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong. Something just wasn’t right.

Brent leaned in and kissed Adam before he expected it. It was too sudden, off-center, a little sloppy. He moved back first as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

“Thanks,” he got out, glad when the doors slid shut on Brent’s confused expression. Jesus, he was terrible at that. He sighed at his reflection in the shiny metal on the wall. Could he have been more of an idiot? Probably.

Either way, he was glad when he got back to the apartment. It was dark, though, when he entered, the door to Charlie’s room shut. Adam resisted the urge to knock and see if he was still up. He didn’t know what he might say, but he wanted to talk to him somehow. He didn’t, though, turning for his room instead.

In the morning, Charlie was gone before he got up. The only evidence he’d been there were the dirty dishes in the sink. Something deep in Adam’s stomach sunk at the sight. Was Charlie avoiding him? The gay thing was weird for him, wasn’t it? Adam had hoped it wouldn’t be, but knowing and seeing were two completely different things.

Despite the growing pit in his stomach, Adam waited for Charlie to get home. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to bring it up—honestly, what good could come of it? He’d all but blown off Brent and now Charlie was being weird. Actually, Adam reminded himself. He didn’t even know that Charlie was acting weird. Maybe he’d had to go in early for work; the pageant was tomorrow after all. There was probably a lot of work to do.

He was just blowing it out of proportion, Adam decided as he glanced alternately between the book in his hands and the clock. It was difficult to concentrate when he spent all his energy on listening for Charlie’s footsteps in the hall.

Finally, at half past five, the lock rattled and Adam quickly pretended to be engrossed in the book as Charlie entered and tossed his keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Charlie greeted him easily, heading for the fridge and pulling out a soda.

“Hi.” Adam looked over carefully, but Charlie was involved in checking the mail.

After a minute, Charlie tossed the mail aside and cracked open the soda. He took a slow sip, seemingly deciding what to say.

“I figured we’d head over to the Club around five tomorrow,” Charlie said finally when Adam just stared at him, willing him to say something to alleviate his worries, to prove that everything was fine. “There’ll be a lot of set-up to do. I mean, don’t worry, you won’t have to do any heavy lifting with your leg and everything.”

His leg was the least of Adam’s worries. He was more worried about the way Charlie wasn’t meeting his eyes, glancing practically anywhere else.

“Okay,” Adam agreed, and Charlie nodded at the television.

“Great. Well, I actually have to go meet my mom. She wants to go see the tree downtown. So I’ll see you later.”

Adam couldn’t even find words to stop Charlie as he left again. Charlie hadn’t even stayed long enough to change clothes. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him for longer than five minutes. It hurt, a pain deep in his chest, as Adam sat on the couch. He’d been through the rejection before, people deciding they couldn’t be his friend because he was gay, but somehow, even with the apprehension, he hadn’t thought Charlie would be like that. Of course, he had harbored a secret hope that Charlie would return his feelings, but he’d known it was just a dream.

Charlie couldn’t even look at him now. Things had been fine until he’d gone on a date, until it had been real in Charlie’s eyes.

Sighing, Adam tossed the book aside and let the disappointment wash over him. He and Charlie would never be close like they’d once been. It had all been a false hope that they could somehow work it out. Adam knew now that he shouldn’t have been so naive. Still, he couldn’t help wishing that things could go back to normal, to how it had been before Adam realized he liked the broadness of Charlie’s shoulders and the way his mouth curved when he smiled. Things had been so much simpler then, but they never would be again.

Adam sunk into the couch and grabbed the television remote. He clearly wasn’t going to do his exercises today.

*

Adam wasn’t nearly as cheerful as he should have been as he sat at his little table outside the gym, taking tickets from eager parents. It was Christmas Eve Eve, as Adam’s mom liked to call it, two days before Christmas. He was sure the Mall of America was packed to the brim with last-minute shoppers, but that didn’t explain why there were so many people here to watch a Christmas pageant. 

His mind wasn’t on the pageant, though, instead dwelling on how Charlie had ignored him practically all day. He could have chalked it up to Charlie being busy and distracted with the pageant, but he knew there was more to it. Charlie hadn’t looked him in the eye in days, and the only things he said to him were about the pageant. He hadn’t even mentioned Brent or the date.

At long last, the last of the ticket-buyers straggled into the gym and Adam was left in peace. From outside the doors, he could hear the pageant, but he didn’t have much interest in watching. 

It hurt to think that Charlie had a problem with him, after all this time. He never should have told him. He never should have gone out with Brent. Then everything would have been fine.

Except that it wouldn’t have been fine.

Adam groaned to himself, rubbing his face and huffing at the table. He couldn’t hide who he was, and he didn’t want to hide it, not after all this time. If Charlie couldn’t handle it, it was his problem. Still, Adam hated that he had to deal with it. Why could life never go simply? If he hadn’t gotten injured, he wouldn’t even be here right now. His career wouldn’t be up in the air. He’d know where he was going.

Leaning back in his chair, he listened to the slow tones of the children reciting their lines and the occasional applause from the audience. What he really wanted right now was to escape, to go to the rink or the pond and just skate away from all his troubles. He could barely walk without crutches, though, let alone skate. The doctor said they’d take off the boot in a week, though Adam worried it was too soon. As much as he wanted to get back to normal, get back to Denver and his team, away from all these problems that rose up as soon as he got home, a part of him was worried.

There were months to go before he was fully healed, though. No matter what the doctors said, even with the cast off, there were months of physical therapy, months before he’d be allowed to skate again, if he would even know if he could play professionally again. Despite everything, Adam knew he probably wouldn’t go back to the team. A broken leg was too tenuous, too easily broken again.

Sitting there, Adam didn’t pay attention to the time, not until a wave of people flooded from the doors. It must have been over, he assumed, from the parents milling around the lobby, eating cookies and sipping punch. He pushed himself up from the table and grabbed his crutches from where they leaned against the wall.

He wandered into the crowd, hoping Charlie would show up and they could get home, where they would inevitably not speak for the rest of the evening. He wasn’t sure he could bear it.

“You ready to book?” 

Adam turned at Charlie’s voice, missing the hand that would have normally been on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he agreed shortly. He wasn’t sure the apartment would be any better, but he didn’t like the feeling of the crowd around him. It made him uneasy, somehow, wary of people bumping into him and not being able to move out of the way fast enough on crutches. 

The drive was silent, dark and cold. Unbearable.

When they finally reached the apartment, Adam couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Why don’t you just say it?” he said as Charlie shut the door behind them.

“What?” Charlie set his keys on the counter and didn’t meet his eyes, which only frustrated him more.

“Just say that you have a problem with me being gay,” he said, turning in the living room. Maybe if they just got it out, they could move on.

Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t have a problem.”

Adam rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself. “Come on, Charlie. You haven’t spoken to me in two days, not since I went out with Brent. There’s obviously a problem.”

At the mention of Brent, Charlie frowned. He pulled off his jacket and threw it on the back of the couch as he passed Adam.

“There’s no problem.”

Adam couldn’t believe he was denying it. “Really? The thought of me and a guy doesn’t freak you out?”

Charlie shrugged. “No.” He didn’t meet Adam’s eyes, though, and Adam didn’t know what to say. How could Charlie say that when it was obvious that it did?

“Then what the hell is your problem?” Adam snapped. “And you can’t say there isn’t one. Things have been weird, and not just since the other night.”

Adam had seen Charlie angry before, and he knew the telltale signs, the tightening of Charlie’s mouth, his jaw hardening.

“Gee, I don’t know,” Charlie said finally, tone facetious and sharp. “You come waltzing back home after eight years and just expect us to be friends like we used to be. You’re quiet and secretive, and you go on dates with some guy you don’t even know.” 

Adam stared, mouth dropping open. “I _told_ you I was gay. You said you were okay with it. Were you lying? How do you expect me to act when I’m forced to come back here, back to my parents, after an injury that has pretty much ended my whole career? I don’t have a back-up plan, Charlie. We both know I won’t go back to the team. The injury is too severe, no matter what Dr. McCline says. I’m out of the game for life. Now I have to figure everything out, all over again. Am I not allowed to grieve?”

“I get it,” Charlie said, but Adam shook his head.

“I don’t think you do. You have friends and a great job and you’re coaching. You have everything. I don’t have anything anymore. And if I want to go on a date with some guy I met, I’m going to.” Adam’s heart pressed against his throat, a loud thud as his face grew hot with anger. Charlie wasn’t allowed to care who he dated or what he did. He had his whole life to figure out again, and it was probably time he started.

Charlie’s face spasmed, as though conflicted. “You don’t even know this guy.”

“So? I don’t ask about your love life or the girlfriend you obviously had before I came here. I thought maybe we could be friends again, like we were, but if this is how you’re going to react every time I go out…” He paused, biting his lip, almost not quite believing what he was going to say. “I don’t—I don’t think I should stay here anymore.”

Charlie’s eyes widened, but Adam had decided, though it pained him to say it. It was the only solution that he could see.

“Adam—”

“Just stop.” Adam shook his head, heading for the front door. “Obviously there are things we can’t fix, and maybe there was a reason we drifted apart in the first place. We shouldn’t make it harder on ourselves.”

Turning away from Charlie, he bit back the lump rising in his throat. 

“Wh-where are you going?” Charlie asked as Adam got the front door open. “Adam, this is stupid.”

“I’m going to my parents’,” he muttered to the door. “I’ll get my stuff later.”

He left, and Charlie didn’t stop him. Not that Adam had expected him to. It would easier on both of them this way. Charlie wouldn’t have to pretend he was okay with everything, and Adam wouldn’t have to see his face every day and be reminded of what he couldn’t have. He’d just been torturing himself.

In the hall, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed home. He didn’t know what he’d tell his mom when she asked why he left, but that was a problem for another day.

*

“Hot chocolate?”

“I’m not five, Mom,” Adam said, but he took the mug she handed him and sighed at the crackling fire in the hearth. His parents house looked like Christmas had thrown up inside, though a very sophisticated Christmas, with wreaths and expensive ribbons. The tree was real, decorated perfectly with very few sentimental ornaments. This year, the color scheme appeared to be purple and gold. 

Sipping the hot chocolate, Adam didn’t speak, though he knew his mom was waiting for some kind of explanation. She’d been good enough not to say anything on the drive over last night, and she’d waited all day, probably lulling him into a false sense of security before diving in.

“Where’s Charlie tonight?” she asked finally. The fire popped in the grate.

“Probably at his mom’s,” Adam muttered, blowing on his drink. He didn’t really want to think about Charlie anymore. He’d spent a good portion of his life thinking about Charlie and look where that had gotten him. 

“And you’re not with him because…?”

Adam tried not to roll his eyes. “Wouldn’t you prefer I be here with you?” he asked instead of answering. 

She reached over, stroking down his hair, like she used to do when he was in elementary school and sick. “Of course. But Charlie’s always been your best friend. Did you two have a fight?”

“Mom,” he groaned, leaning out of her reach. “I’m not a kid.”

“You’re twenty-six,” she scoffed. “You’re not exactly a mature adult, honey. People fight at all ages.”

“Well, it’s fine,” he said, setting his mug on the side table and crossing his arms. “I just thought it’d be easier to move back in here. It’s closer to the therapist and you can drive me there.”

“Isn’t that the exact reason you went to stay with Charlie?”

Not exactly. Adam didn’t say that, though. “I just need to figure out some things. I’ve got to call my landlord in Denver, get my stuff shipped up here. Talk to Coach about my options.”

There really weren’t many options. He was still on the team, though he doubted it would be for long. If he ever was able to play again, then they’d deal with it. Until then, it would be easier to just lay low and start over.

His mom hugged him despite him tensing. “You’re always welcome here for as long as you need.”

He sighed and relaxed in her grip. “Thanks.”

“You’ll be on your feet soon enough,” she assured him. “I mean that both literally and figuratively.”

Adam tried to smile, but he didn’t feel any better. He was glad when she left and he could stare into the fire in peace. There was so much to figure out, and losing Charlie didn’t make it any easier. He’d always kind of thought that they would be friends forever, even when they were old and wrinkled and grumpy. It was strange to think that they wouldn’t.

It was exactly the wrong time for this all to happen, too. Christmas was his favorite holiday, or it had been until this year. This year, it was marred with unhappiness, and he frowned at the fireplace. He doubted anything would change that.

*

The next day reminded Adam why he never came home for Christmas as a plethora or aunts, uncles, and cousins poured in from noon to dinner. Every one commented on his leg, a few younger cousins even going so far as to poke it to see if it hurt.

“Didn’t I say you’d get injured?” his uncle Richard boomed across the dinner table, and despite the rest of the chatter, Adam heard.

“Career’s not over,” his dad chimed in. “The physical therapist thinks she can get him back on skates in a few months if he works hard.” He gave Adam a significant look. Adam stabbed the ham on his plate.

On his other side, his mother was deep in conversation with her sister. “We had actually planned on going to Denver this year, you know, to see Adam since he never seems to be able to get away for the holidays. But, of course, that didn’t happen.”

Adam would have given anything to be back in Denver right now, away from all his problems. Maybe he never should have left. He could have hired a nurse to take care of him and somehow made it up the stairs in his apartment. Right… Even he knew that would have been impossible. He’d had to come home.

“I’m just glad he’s home,” his mom said, smiling at him. Adam forced his lips to move but his heart wasn’t in it. His heart hadn’t been in much lately.

Amidst the chatter and clink of plates, the doorbell rang. If Adam’s leg had been good, he would have volunteered to answer just to get away, but a young cousin sprang up at the chance and disappeared to the living room.

Adam was going through all the excuses he could make to escape to his room when the cousin returned.

“Adam, some guy named Charlie is here to see you.”

His heart leapt into his throat, and he avoided his mother’s knowing gaze as he got up and grabbed his crutches. In the living room, Charlie waited, looking woefully out of place in the lavishly decorate house. His hands were stuck in his pockets and he shifted around as Adam approached.

“Charlie?” Adam asked apprehensively. As glad as he was to get away from the table, he wasn’t sure Charlie would make it any better.

“Hi, Banksie.” He said it like he used to, warm and soft, and Adam could swear he melted slightly. But that wasn’t going to work. They weren’t going to work as friends anymore. That had been clearly demonstrated.

“What do you want?” Adam was going to be strong and not let the fact that Charlie looked adorably wind-blown sway his decision. 

Charlie’s eyes flicked to the open archway that led to the dining room. From here, Adam could see his dad craning to watch, an eyebrow arched at the interruption.

“Let’s go outside,” Adam said, and Charlie hesitated.

“It’s freezing out.”

“Well, this won’t take long, right?” Adam frowned and Charlie didn’t reply for a moment.

“I guess,” he muttered, turning and opening the door.

It was freezing outside, flakes of dry snow drifting down from the gray sky overhead. His dad had recently cleared the driveway, snow piling up several feet on either side. Charlie’s car was parked on the street, sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the shiny, expensive cars of Adam’s relatives. 

Shivering, Adam wrapped his arms around him, forgoing the balance of the crutches for warmth. “So what do you want to say?” he asked, watching Charlie.

Charlie shuffled his feet again, the way he did when he was nervous. Adam hadn’t seen him do it in years and it made him uneasy. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Charlie said finally, meeting Adam’s eyes. “I should have told you a long time ago. Instead, I let things get out of hand.”

Adam had no idea what Charlie was talking about.

“If it’s about me being gay, you don’t have to lie about being okay with it. I’d rather know so we don’t have to pretend things are okay. We can just stop being friends.”

It was the last thing Adam wanted, but it would be so much harder to pretend things were okay when they weren’t.

“No.” Charlie shook his head and snowflakes gathered on his shoulder. He at least had a coat whereas Adam was just in a sweater. “The reason I got so upset about you and… that nurse guy—”

“Brent,” Adam interrupted, mostly out of annoyance.

Charlie sighed. “Yeah. I should have just told you before.” He bit his lip and Adam frowned. What was this? Was Charlie keeping secrets now? “I’m bi.”

Adam stared, mind blank. “What?”

“Bisexual,” Charlie said, meeting Adam’s stare. “You know, I like guys and girls.”

Adam shook his head. “I know what it means. I’m not stupid. I just don’t understand. Why does that matter? Shouldn’t that mean you’d be okay with me dating Brent?” He paused as a new thought occurred. “Wait, did you like Brent?”

It came as a shock. He supposed he’d never really considered the possibility that Charlie might be into guys, even if he’d dreamed about it. It had never _actually_ seemed possible. Now that it was, his stomach started rolling itself into knots. Charlie had been interested in guys this whole time and he hadn’t said anything. Charlie really did consider them just friends.

“No,” Charlie said, sounding exasperated at Adam’s question. “I don’t like Brent. He’s a slimy, too-charming, jerk.”

Adam’s fingers were going numb, and if this conversation wasn’t going anywhere, he’d much rather be inside, whether or not anyone else could hear them.

“I like _you_ , Adam.”

This time, Adam was sure he was hallucinating. “Is this a joke?” he asked finally. “Are you just making fun of me now? You figured out how I felt and it’s funny?”

“How you felt?” Charlie asked, but Adam merely scoffed.

“Connie told you, didn’t she? Or Goldberg, that blabbermouth. He could never keep a secret.” He unfolded his arms and grabbed his crutches. “Fine, whatever. Yeah, Charlie, I like you, and I have for a long time, but it’s not funny to joke about it. We’re clearly terrible friends and we should have stopped being a long time ago.”

He turned towards the door, intending to go inside and try to forget Charlie ever existed, but Charlie was there, hands on his shoulders, pulling him around, and kissing him.

Adam had imagined this. He’d imagined a million times in a million different ways, but none of them compared to the real thing—the soft press of Charlie’s lips against his, the warmth of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands on his shoulders, keeping him from slipping on the porch. 

Adam’s eyes closed for the few seconds Charlie was pressed against him, and he kissed him back. For a second, he allowed himself to hope that this was real.

Charlie pulled back first, hands loosening their grip and sliding up to the back of his neck. He didn’t move back far, just enough that their noses brushed and Adam felt his warm exhale against his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Come back to the apartment,” Charlie murmured. “Adam.”

“This is real?” he asked, searching Charlie’s face. There was no trace of a lie there. 

Charlie smiled, ducking his head and nodding. “Yep, totally real.”

In a million years, Adam had never thought it might actually happen. He’d spent so many years imagining it, but he’d known, deep down, that it was foolish to hope. What were the odds?

“Adam,” Charlie said after a minute, moving back slightly. “I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be your boyfriend.”

Adam smiled as his heart battered his chest. This couldn’t be real. “This is a joke, isn’t it?”

Charlie kissed him again, softly, firmly, licking into his mouth, and okay, probably not a joke. Adam melted against him, unable to stop himself. 

“Not at all,” Charlie said when they parted. “I was a jerk the last couple days ‘cause I was an idiot and jealous and stupid. I thought maybe you liked that guy and that I didn’t have a chance.”

“If you’d just told me before,” Adam said, and Charlie nodded. 

“I know. Like I said, stupid, idiot, jealous. I don’t know. Maybe I was afraid I’d scare you off. You left before.”

“That was college.” Adam bit his lip, probably getting frostbitten the longer they stood out there, but Charlie’s body was warm, a hand still on his neck, the other smoothing down his back. He shivered again but only partially from the cold. “And thinking you were straight. I just wanted a chance to not be so in love with you.”

Charlie’s smile widened. “Did it work?”

Adam laughed. “Apparently not.” 

“So will you come back with me?” Charlie asked, brushing his hair aside. 

As if he would have said no. After all this time, it was the only thing he wanted to do. They might not have worked out as friends, but they could work out as more.

“Just let me tell my mom I’m going.”

Charlie grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll warm up the car.”

Adam watched Charlie trot down the driveway and bit back his smile as he went back inside. Christmas was looking up after all.

*

**Epilogue**

“Get the puck!” Guy shouted as the puck went sliding across the ice and Adam’s stick stopped it.

Moving towards the goal, he caught sight of Connie coming his way and swerved to avoid a collision. Charlie came out of nowhere on his opposite side, sneaking the puck away from him, his stick smacking Adam’s leg in the process.

Adam slid down, landing ungracefully on his ass. “Fuck!”

Charlie skidded to a stop, ice spraying over the pond, a look of terror on his face.

“Shit, Adam, are you—”

Adam laughed at his face. “You’re so easy, Conway.”

“You’re a dick,” Charlie said simply, but he held out a hand to Adam and pulled him upright. Adam merely smiled, tousling the snow out of Charlie’s hair.

“Remind me why we’re on separate teams?”

Charlie smiled. “Gotta try to make it fair.”

“Right, sportsmanship,” Adam agreed, grinning when Charlie leaned in to kiss him.

“Right,” he murmured, kissing him again.

“Get a room!” Guy and Connie shouted together from across the pond. Connie skated over.

“Hey, we’ve got a game to win, Conway. Paw your boyfriend on your own time.”

“Fine,” Charlie lamented, but his hand sneaked down to Adam’s ass and squeezed deliberately. Adam determinedly didn’t grin and skated off to join Guy near the goal.

Connie rolled her eyes. “Alright, next goal wins then you two can go be gross at home.”

Adam didn’t point out that there had been a time when she and Guy had been just as disgusting. They sometimes still were.

Skating felt like freedom to Adam. His leg had finally healed after months of therapy and even if he couldn’t skate professionally anymore, he could still get out on the ice. The year had gone by so much faster than Adam had anticipated, even with the prospect of no more hockey. He’d gotten a job at the Boys and Girls Club, but he was looking into teaching skating down at the rink. 

Charlie flew right past him, heading for their goal, but even after his injury, Adam was quicker and sneaked the puck away, zooming down the ice and slamming it into the overturned trash can at the other end. Guy cheered and hugged him tightly as Connie cursed under her breath.

“It’s not fair,” she said, skating over and pulling Guy off Adam. “You’re professionally trained.”

“Rematch next week?” he asked, and she pursed her lips but shrugged.

“Fine, but you’re on my team.”

Adam laughed as Charlie objected loudly.

“Hey!”

Connie waved him away. “Next week,” she said, skating towards the edge of the pond. “Don’t be late.”

“Sometimes I think she’s too competitive for her own good,” Adam said later as they got back to the apartment and tossed their skates in the corner, dripping and wet. 

“It can be a good thing,” Charlie replied, shutting the door and pulling off his coat. He reached for Adam’s, dragging it off as well and hanging them up. Before Adam could turn around, Charlie had him boxed in against the counter and was gazing at him in a way that made Adam’s stomach flutter stupidly. “You’re getting better on your skates.”

Adam nodded. “It’s nice to get out there again. I missed it.”

Charlie shuffled closer until their bodies were pressed together. “You’re not going to go off and join an NHL team, are you?”

Adam smiled, sliding his arms around Charlie’s shoulders. “I think I’m okay here.”

He was, in fact, perfectly okay with Charlie’s body against his, warm and comfortable. Charlie’s hands fell to his waist, brushing under his shirt as he leaned in to kiss him.

It had been almost a year since Charlie had shown up at his parent’s doorstep on Christmas, a year since they’d decided to try to be more. They’d definitely had their ups and downs, but Adam thought there were decidedly more ups than downs.

Charlie’s kisses hadn’t changed in that year, still soft but insistent, teeth dragging over his bottom lip, tongue sliding into his mouth. His hands pressed into Adam’s back as he made a soft noise.

Somehow, they made it to the bedroom, in between Charlie’s hands hot on his skin and Adam’s tugging at Charlie’s shirt. The room, that Adam hadn’t seen those first few months and that he spent most of his time in these days, was decorated from head to toe with hockey stuff—pictures of the Ducks, clippings from Adam’s time in the NHL, trophies.

“My last boyfriend thought I was too obsessed with hockey,” Charlie had told him. “That’s why he left.”

“And the flowery smell?”

“Potpourri.”

Adam fell backwards onto the bed, Charlie climbing on top of him and grabbing at his shirt, yanking it off.

“Charlie,” Adam groaned, tipping his head backwards as Charlie’s mouth slid down his neck, tongue lapping at his collarbone and making his way down. When his mouth closed over Adam’s nipple, Adam moaned louder and stretched up against him. He was already getting hard even without Charlie pushing the heel of his hand into his erection.

“I want to suck you off,” Charlie murmured, and Adam certainly wasn’t arguing.

“Yeah,” he agreed, fumbling to get his jeans undone. Charlie helped, jerking them down and pushing them over his hips. It was so much easier without a boot. The first few times had taken some maneuvering, but they’d worked it out in the end.

Charlie’s mouth was hot and slid wet over his prick. Adam sighed, grabbing onto the covers and closing his eyes. He’d been pleasantly surprised at Charlie’s skills in the bedroom, never quite guessing Charlie would be that interested in giving head, but Charlie was enthusiastic as he was talented in that area.

“Fuck,” Adam cursed under his breath, always taken by how good Charlie was at this.

Charlie’s tongue slid down the length of his cock before he took it in his mouth again and sucked. His hand moved up, gripping the base and stroking in time with his mouth until Adam was a mess, unable to concentrate on anything other than the heat rising on his skin, the tightening of his stomach as he got nearer and nearer to coming.

“Charlie,” he gasped, thighs jerking, breath growing short, and he couldn’t warn him before he came, stomach uncoiling rapidly, heart thudding against his ribcage.

Charlie pulled back slowly, licking the come off Adam’s prick and swallowing. It was almost enough to make Adam hard again, and he groaned, head hitting the pillow.

“You’re so good at that,” he muttered as Charlie pushed himself up and kissed him thoroughly until he felt light-headed and relaxed. 

“You’re not too shabby either,” Charlie breathed, voice strained, and Adam could feel his cock pressed against his thigh, hips working slowly.

He didn’t have to ask what Charlie wanted, reaching down and sliding his hand inside his jeans. He liked the way Charlie gasped as his hand wrapped around him and pulled. He felt Charlie’s breath, hot against his neck as Charlie buried his face and thrust his hips into Adam’s grip.

“Faster,” Charlie gasped, biting down on Adam’s neck.

Adam stroked faster, his free hand gripping Charlie’s back to keep him there, pressed against him. Not that Charlie was going anywhere, grinding into Adam’s hand and moaning recklessly into his skin.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Charlie breathed with a soft, choked noise, and came in his jeans. Adam felt him shudder, hips slowing, breath evening out.

Adam never wanted to get out of bed as he lay there and Charlie slumped against him, warm and heavy, partially on top of him. 

“You know what, Banksie?” Charlie said after a minute, hand carding through Adam’s hair gently.

“Hm?” Adam asked, eyes closed and completely content to never move again. He felt Charlie shift, his mouth brushing against his temple.

“I love you.”

It was the first time either of them had said it, and Adam opened his eyes. He turned to Charlie and smiled as warmth bloomed in his chest.

“I love you too.”

Charlie grinned and hugged Adam to him, mouth pressed against his chin. Things may not have worked out how Adam had planned, but as he lay there, he thought maybe, possibly, they’d turned out better.

*

FIN.


End file.
